


each day is valentine's day

by sunshinelatte



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:24:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3393401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinelatte/pseuds/sunshinelatte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>thwarted valentine's day plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	each day is valentine's day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lanyon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lanyon/gifts).



> for my dearest lanyon, who is going through some terribly tough times right now.  
> hopefully this cheers you up slightly!
> 
> not the best writing, and not beta-ed.  
> written in 3 hours and after a long hiatus from writing! 
> 
> title from frank sinatra's my funny valentine.

Steve wakes to an empty half of the bed, and silence. Bucky’s not there, and he’s cold. He checks the pillow – no note there. He looks at the bedside table and on the door – no notes there either. This is puzzling. It’s not like Bucky to leave without any notes or advance warning. Rolling his shoulders, he heads for a shower before deciding his next course of action.

 

It’s in the shower he gets his first clue. Written in pink sharpie on the shower wall, there is a huge arrow pointing to the toiletry rack. Upon closer inspection, he sees a bright pink thing hanging off the shampoo. It turns out to be some new fancy smelling thing from the handmade cosmetics store down the street that Bucky loves. Steve decides, might as well, because what the hell, he can’t say no to Bucky. It turns out to be a pretty good idea, and the smell of cherry blossoms fills the bathroom. 

 

His nose leads him out to the kitchen, where his eyes are greeted by the happy sight of pancakes on the table. Even better, there’s coffee brewing in the pot and best of all, there’s Bucky standing by the sink, washing the pan, in his Kiss the Cook apron. He turns around when Steve walks in, and his smile all but blows Steve out of the water. Every damn time. 

 

He’d like to tell himself that he’s immune to Bucky’s charms, that his ice blue eyes don’t make him go weak in the knees, or that Bucky’s smiles don’t feel like a punch to the gut, no matter which version is being directed at Steve. 

 

Right now, it’s the eager smile that means he’s looking to see if his surprise was a success. Steve beams at him and goes in for a hug, ignoring Bucky’s protests about having his hands still soapy, and presses a kiss to the back of Bucky’s neck (doing exactly what the apron says, hey he can’t ignore an instruction like that, can he?). “Morning, you great big sap.”

 

“Morning to you too. The bath thingy was good.” Steve hides his face in the curve of Bucky’s neck and inhales the faint scent of cigarettes and sweat and pancakes. He can feel Bucky’s jaw lift in a grin as he says sarcastically, “What do you mean bath thingy?! Haven’t I told you a million times it’s a Bath Melt? You never learn, do you, Rogers?” 

 

Steve smirks as he leans forward and pecks chastely at the corner of Bucky’s mouth. “Yeah, yeah, old men don’t have such good memories, jerk. Now come and have breakfast.”

 

Bucky grouses good naturedly about having to cook to feed an army as he dries his hands on the towel and sits down across Steve. They’re both halfway through the first pancake (with plenty of maple syrup for Steve), when JARVIS sounds the alarm. Both of them groan and Steve shovels the last bit of the pancake in his mouth urgently before leaping up to change, expecting Bucky to follow closely behind. But there are no accompanying footsteps. He turns around, puzzled. 

 

It turns out Bucky has decided that pouring 2 cups of coffee is more important than getting suited up. Steve can barely hold back his incredulity as Bucky shrugs easily and says, “Sue me. I need my morning coffee and it can cool while I change.” How little times have changed, Steve thinks. Neither of them require coffee to get going in the mornings now, but it seems to be a habit Bucky can’t break when he’s at home. Even emergencies can wait for a minute while he gulps his coffee. 

 

Bucky seems more on edge than usual during the fight. He ruthlessly smashes and punches his way through the robots left, right and centre. Steve stops to wonder at his pent-up rage. Was it to do with his undrunk coffee? But he distinctly remembers Bucky gulping down his cup before running out of the apartment. 

 

He’s so lost in the moment that he fails to notice the doombot approaching on his left, arms raised to strike. Bucky bellows, “Rogers! You fucking idiot!” and aims an extremely well-timed shot which reduces the robot to a pile of wires and metal. Steve scratches the back of head guiltily and is on the receiving end of Bucky’s death glare (made all the more menacing with his black eye paint) when he looks up. “Uhh, thanks?”

 

“Don’t thank me, you stupid idiot, try and keep yourself alive and make yourself useful,” Bucky yells. “Please, try to stay alive Stevie. For me,” comes through on his earpiece. He hears the quiet desperation in Bucky’s voice and swallows. “Yeah, Buck.”

 

The rest of the situation goes according to plan and they finally get back to the Tower from the debrief late that night. Bucky sighs dejectedly as they make their way into the apartment. 

 

“What’s the matter, Buck?” Steve is worried. The mission had gone well, with minimal injuries on their side. Bucky still looks disappointed though.

 

Bucky just sighs again and drops onto the couch like a dead weight, head in his hands. “Nothing important, Stevie. Just that I planned this whole day out and this was exactly how I did not want it to go.” 

 

Steve knows he must look confused 7 ways to Sunday. Was today a special day? Other than the pink bath thingy and the pancakes, he hadn’t realised that there was anything of significance. Bucky growls in frustration as he takes in Steve’s confusion, and then bursts out laughing. 

 

He gets up and stalks to his room, re-emerging with a bouquet of roses, which he thrusts at Steve a little forcefully. “Here.”

 

Steve takes it, unsure of what it means. Then he spies the card tied to the stem and he picks it up to read.

_“Happy Valentine’s Stevie. Love you till the end of the line. –B”_

Understanding lights up his brain now. Had he really forgotten Valentine’s Day? Now it’s his turn to drop his head into his hands and groan. Bucky surely deserves to be treated better than this. He really is the world’s worst boyfriend. 

 

He feels the couch sag as Bucky plops himself down. He turns to Bucky and throws his arms around him, burying his face into Bucky’s neck. It’s one of his favourite places to be, if he lets himself admit. Bucky’s hands come up and stroke his back, and huffs a laugh into his ear.

 

“You’re unbelievable, Stevie. I plan the whole damn day and you don’t even realise it’s Valentine’s.” 

 

Steve just groans and snuggles in closer. He feels like the worst person ever. He’s got to make it up to Bucky somehow. He pushes away from Bucky and looks at him despairingly. “I’m sorry, Buck. I really didn’t mean to forget. But you gotta know, every day is special when I’ve got you with me.” 

 

He doesn’t say the things he never says, of the unspeakable sadness and emptiness that engulfs him when he thinks about their 70 years spent apart, of the grief he had when Bucky fell, at the despair he felt when he looked into the Winter Soldier’s eyes and there was no flicker of recognition, and the misery of hearing Bucky screaming his lungs out during the prolonged recovery process. 

 

Bucky seems to understand, as he always does. His eyes look sad, and it’s his turn to press his face into the curve of Steve’s neck. Steve cradles the back of his head as he pets him, both of them just absorbing each other. 

 

Steve is hit with one of his ideas as he runs his fingers through Bucky’s greasy hair. “Hey Buck, there’s still a couple of hours left of Valentine’s.” Bucky faces him with a question in his eyes. “Well, I thought we could make use of the pink bath thingy?” Steve waggles his eyebrows suggestively. 

“For the last time, it’s a Bath Melt, Rogers,” Bucky drawls, but he stands up and races to the bathroom. “Race you, Stevie!” 

Steve squawks at the unfairness of it all and gives chase. He strips off quickly and joins Bucky in the shower. The spray runs down Bucky’s back and Steve squeezes in behind him and closes the sliding door. He grabs the pink bath thingy and lathers it up, running his soapy hands up and down Bucky’s back slowly. Bucky turns his head over his shoulder, and Steve meets his lips in a long slow kiss as his hands travel past Bucky’s hips and further down south.

 

Later, when they’re all fucked out blissfully and in bed, Bucky turns to Steve and says, “Happy Valentine’s day, you big sap.” Steve just smiles and leans into Bucky’s big spoon. What they have is more than the Valentine’s clichés, but it’s nice to do the clichés too sometimes (especially if it leads to hot shower sex).

**Author's Note:**

> i hope it wasn't a terribly awkward fic. comments much welcome! <3


End file.
